Gone
by conspiracy bug girl
Summary: First ever fanfic. Booth is captured, Bones is devestated, and we'll see where my imagination and my keyboard take me. Please R&R. Due to demand heres chapter 6 xoxo
1. Seely Booth

_Ok, everyone first eva fanfic so don't be too harsh. I don't know if this is even going to work, with the whole chapters gig. + please don't sue me. I don't own anything of importance, expecially not FOX television shows such as Bones. Wish I did though. Ok here I go...:_

During the glimmers of awareness Seely Booth thought of her. The way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she glared at him. The day she had danced with him in her apartment. The day she cried into his shoulder. When she was happy, sad, heartbroken, lost, drunk. Those little moments when she let her walls down and allowed him to see behind her so carefully placed defenses. Would he ever see her again?

Breaking through the darkness shrouding his brain, he began to struggle against the bonds again. Pain shot through his twisted arms and into his shoulders. Blood ran from the chafe wounds on his wrists. Wincing, he gritted his teeth and tried to pull his hands free of the handcuffs. Never had he tried so desperately to be free. Never had he wanted so desperately to see Temperance Brennan.

Footsteps. His captors. He felt dread in the pit of his stomach. The door opened. He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths. He knew what was coming. He knew it. Go away, he thought, stop it. Leave me be. He had never felt so alone

He felt his captor stand over him, staring at him. But he didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to look at any of the men who had caused him so much pain. A question was asked. They had asked it a little while ago too. And before that. Booth had no idea how long it had been, though. He didn't know if it was day or night. If it had been an hour or a year since he'd last seen her. He had lost track of time.

The question, again. Shivering slightly, he shook his head in defiance. His captor hit him across his face and he felt his head snap to the side. Blood started to trickle from the corner of his mouth. The question was asked again. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at his torturer.

"No," he said, in barely more than a whisper. This time, he was kicked in the chest. He felt at least two of his ribs break. Biting his lip to keep from crying out in pain, he recoiled and felt his body curl around his injuries as best it could. An instinct, to protect himself.

We will find her eventually, they said, whether you tell us or not. Tell us, Seely. Tell us and we will make your death humane and painless. The man's voice was brusque and harsh.

"No," he felt a blade slice his right arm. Tears of pain and exhaustion streamed down his face. He was too weak to struggle. Too injured to move. Too devoid of hope to fight. He stared at the flecks of his own blood on the floor, thinking.

He heard the sound of a lighter. No, he thought. No more, please. The question. He could barely move his head but somehow he managed to convey his answer. His torturer placed the flam near his elbow and he could feel his flesh begin to burn. He screamed in pain and begged them to stop. They did.

We can stop ALL this, if you want, they said. He tried to block out the voice. Just tell us. No? You sure? Oh well. I'll just break your arm. How 'bout that? He inhaled sharply and his hoped captor didn't. He prayed would loss his grasp on consciousness soon. But he didn't answer the question.

Seely Booth knew he was going to die. He wished it would be soon.

But he would never give up the safe house location for the women he loved.


	2. Angela Montenegro

OMG, when I saw some of the reviews I was like OMG OMG wow!!! Thanks so much for your support xoxox everyone is wicked awesome!!! P.S sorry the chapters are so short,I have an English assessment I'm meant to be doing but it's so gay. I mean, how is To Kill A Mockingbird relevant in today's society? In Australia???? Anyway … chapter two:

Angela knew Brennan was closing up again. The walls around her heart that Seely Booth had crumbled were rebuilt. The artist strode in the Jeffersonian. The sun had barely risen but she knew her best friend would still be here. Brennan couldn't go home, as it was still too dangerous. She didn't want to go to the safe house, as it was cold and impersonal. She didn't want to sleep, as she dreamt of too many things. So she worked. Almost everyday Angela would come into the lab to find her bent over a skeleton. She knew it was Brennan's way of coping with everything that had happened. But it still broke Angela's heart. To see her best friend hurt so badly was something she didn't want to face. She wished she could erase everything that was going on in Brennan's life. She just wanted her friend to smile and be happy again.

Angela nodded to the security guards. In light of recent events, security had doubled at the Jeffersonian.

"What time did she leave?" Angela asked.

"She didn't." came the gruff reply. Angela sped up slightly and came around the corner, expecting to see Brennan on the platform, as usual. But she wasn't.

Angela almost slipped into blind panic then and there. Oh god, she thought, not you too. If Brennan had been taken as well, Angela wouldn't be able to cope.

Calling out she ran up onto the platform. There was no sign of her.

"Temperance, Bren, where are you," she yelled, fearing the worst. "Brennan, sweetie, are you ok?"

She ran into Brennan's office and nearly collapsed in relief. There she was. Head rested on the desk, fast asleep, Brennan was snoring softly. Angela tip-toed across the room and went over to her sleeping form. Studying her, Angela realized just how tired the Forensic Anthropologist was. There were dark bags under her eyes and she was very pale. Her clothes were crumpled and her hair looked as though it hadn't been washed in days. Angela nudged Brennan softly.

"Hey sweetie, wakey wakey, rise and shine," she said to her best friend. Brennan groaned.

"Booth?" she whispered.

"No, Tempe, it's me," Brennan rubbed her eyes and sat up. She straitened the papers on her desk and looked lost for a moment. Then she started typing.

"I have to get back to work," she stated.

"Come and get a coffee and a bagel or pie or something," Angela pleaded. "You need to get out of this lab."

"I'm very busy," she replied. "I want to have Breaking Bones printing in a week."

"Brennan, Bones Free is barely on the shelf," Angela said. "You don't need to get your third book finished so quickly."

"Yes, I do," she said, "I do." Angela nodded.

"Ok. Can I read what you've written so far?"

"Umm, I don't think so,"

"Please, Brennan, I'll read it when it comes out anyway." She reasoned. Silently, Brennan scrolled to the top of the Word Document on her computer. Then she relinquished the mouse to Angela. Standing up, she walked out of her office. Angela read.

After the first chapter Angela had realized that this was not like Brennan's other books. It was personal. She understood the relativity of the title, Breaking Bones. She, Bones, was breaking.


	3. Jack Hodgins

_Heya, back again, sorry it's so short this time. Thank to who ever it was who told me the correct spelling of Angela's name!!! I was like hmmm that doesn't look right... Chapter 3:_

This was the time Hodgins had most noticed the FBI agent's absence. They huddled around Angela's computer. The group seemed smaller. Different. Uncomfortable. Usually, Brennan, Zack, Cam, Angela, Booth and himself were standing on each other's toes and bickering about irrelevant things. Sometimes it was someone's romantic relationships. Sometimes it was sadness over the case. Sometimes it was what was for lunch. More often than not, it was about sex. But now, there was silence. No one talked. Angela's typing resonated throughout the room. Zach fiddled with his cuticles. Brennan stood stock-still. Cam was absent. Hodgins wanted to break the silence.

"So, I think I smell a conspiracy," he said. Ok, not original, but it was all he could think of.

"Jack …" Angela started.

"Hodgins, shut up," everyone looked surprised by Brennan's burst of anger. She snorted slightly and inhaled in annoyance. "Not everything is a conspiracy."

"I was just saying that …"

"I mean, you can't just randomly accuse the government or whoever because you are paranoid."

"I …" Hodgins' mouth was open. He looked like a stunned fish.

"The thing with Booth wasn't a conspiracy, was it?" Brennan's eyes shone with tears and she turned away, sniffling, "It was me. It was my fault."

"Temperance, calm down," soothed Angela. "He didn't mean it like that." Brennan didn't say anything. Hodgins reached out and took her hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, squeezing it. Brennan didn't let go of it. She was thankful for the comforting gesture.

"You were just reverting to something sim-similar. It's not your fault," she said, tears still in her eyes. She let go of his hand then. Mores silence. Hodgins thought about Brennan's reaction and what she had said. She thought it was her fault. That if she hadn't aggravated the men who had killed Laurence Bliggs Booth might be standing here with them. That if she hadn't bruised the guy's ego so badly that he'd wanted her dead, Booth would never have been taken captive.

"It's not your fault either," Hodgins reassured. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen."

"I should have…" at that moment the tears began to escape down her cheek. Angela, Zach and Hodgins swept her into a hug.

"It's ok."


	4. Temperance Brennan

_Chapter 4. Don't shoot me cause of what happened, I'm not done yet ;)_

Doctor Temperance Brennan looked at the name on the headstone and felt an enormous sadness sweep over her. _Seely Booth. _She didn't cry. She just looked. She still couldn't comprehend that she'd never see him again. She couldn't imagine life without him. She kept remembering how she'd come into her office after a long day and find him sitting in her chair, feet comfortably on her desk. She'd scowl, but secretly be elated to see him. Then he'd invite her out for dinner and they'd just talk for hours about nothing.

But not now.

He'd been MIA for almost a week when the body had come in. His body. Brennan had done the examination and, almost in a trance, found where the killers had been holed up, took her gun and killed three of them. Two were still missing. The FBI predicted they wouldn't be seen again. Brennan still didn't think that was good enough. They deserved to be dead.

It had taken nearly three days for it to sink in that he was dead. During that time she had wondered around, devoid of feels and emotions. Not quite sure if it was real. Now, almost two weeks later, Brennan still expected it to be Booth, bearing Chinese food, every time she opened the front door.

Brennan heard footsteps behind her and knew she should be weary. It could be someone who wanted to kill her. Just like they had killed her partner. But she couldn't find the enthusiasm to even turn around.

A hand on her shoulder. For almost a minute Brennan and Angela just stood in silence, looking down at the grave before them. Then Brennan sighed.

"I knew it was him," she said, in a small, soft voice. "As soon as I saw … I mean the race, sex, height, past injuries, everything fit. But I still hoped that somehow it wasn't. Then I saw h-how worn the wrists were and I kn-knew it was him. Because of how chafed his wrists were." She was starting to tear up. Angela wrapped an arm around her. "Booth would have fought so hard to be free. His wrists were so badly scrap-ed and-and injured. He would have been bleeding and in-in so much pain. And yet he still fought. He fought toothpick and nail to get out of there." Brennan was crying now. She sniffled.

"Of course he fought. It's the type of person he was," Angela whispered. Brennan nodded.

"How could they have done this to him?" Brennan asked. "How can someone hurt another person so much and-and-and …" she trailed off. "I mean he had his whole life ahead of him. He had a family and a s-son and a job and …"

"And you," said Angela. "That's why he fought so hard, you know. So he could come back to you. He loved you." Then Brennan broke.

"How could you leave me?" she sobbed at the headstone. Angela didn't say anything. "How could you go?" She dropped to her knees and put her head in her hands. "You said you'd always be here for me. We were family, you said. And I believe you!" She was angry. But she shouldn't be angry with him. It wasn't his fault. Like Angela had said, he had tried to come back to her. Brennan knew there was no rationale explanation for why she held him responsible. She felt Angela hugging her. Brennan let go and wept into her best friends shoulder.

"It's ok to be mad," Angela said. Brennan shook her head.

"No, its n-not. He's dead. I shouldn't – I shouldn't be blaming him." She cried.

"Shhh, its ok."

"I would've told him, you know." Brennan whispered. "If someone had told me he'd be gone by now I would've told him that I loved him. Now I'll never get the chance."

"He knew." Angela stated simply.

"I should have told him," Brennan reached out and ran a finger over his name. "I should have told him I loved him."

"You'll find a way. I know you will." Angela said

"I will."

Angela's words had spun round and round in Brennan's head. You'll find a way. I know you will. She had tried to thing of someway but she was completely blank. But now, sitting at her desk, it hit her. Grabbing her keys, Brennan ran out of the Jeffersonian, oblivious to her co-workers calls, hopped into her car and drove directly to her publisher's office.

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

"Temperance, how are you?" Max Hamilan asked her cautiously. This had been a difficult time for the Forensic Anthropologist so he trod carefully whenever talking to her. He was vigilant.

"My book, has it started being published yet?"

"No, Wednesday." He frowned. Now he was apologetic "Sorry, I haven't gotten …"

"Excellent, where's the final copy?" she asked urgently. Now Max was just plain confused. Getting it out, he asked her what was wrong.

"I just need to fix something up," grabbing a pen, she lent on the desk and started scribbling away. After three minutes she handed it back and gave him the orders. "I want it exactly like that, ok. In my handwriting and everything. I want to be personal."

Then she was gone.

Curious, Max flipped to the page she had written on. In scrawled lettering that took up half the page,

Breaking Bones is dedicated to Special Agent Seely Booth, again. But this time…in memory of. I never got around to telling you this but I love you. Ok, I said it. I love you. I miss you and I love you. Goodbye.

A heart then the word Bones.

Max closed the cover. That was beautiful.


	5. Temperance again

_So sorry i made people sad :'( i think this'll be the last chapter xoxoxo_

Temperance Brennan jolted awake, tears streaming down her face. The dream had been so vivid and believable. Shaking slightly, she moved and felt pain shoot through her abdomen. The hospital bed railing had been poking into her side. Hospital, hospital, hospital??? Waking up fully, she lifted her head and remembered why she was there.

Special Agent Seely Booth lay before her, unconscious. Seeing him there, so vulnerable and fragile-looking, she felt her eyes well again. An IV ran from his left hand and a cast surrounded the other. The faint beeping of the machines beside the bed was annoying, but Brennan didn't care. They meant he was alive.

Brennan tried to push the memory of the dream she'd been having from her mind. She shuddered to think what would've happened if they hadn't found Booth in time. He would be dead, just like in her dream. She rubbed her eyes and tried not to think about it. Reaching for his hand, she studied her sleeping partner. She wondered what he was dreaming about. Probably his ordeal, she thought, from the tightness of his jaw, giving voice to the pain he was feeling. Cuts, bruises, burns. It was inhuman. Just looking at his wounds, Brennan felt an overwhelming urge to hit something. How could this be done to a fellow human being? The cruelty of some people never failed to amaze Brennan. When they had found him there had been so much blood. He had been unconscious, weak, his body injured and racked with hunger. She remembered the disgust she had felt when she had seen that his arm was badly broken and his wrists had been slit. She had used the sleeve of her shirt to slow the flow of blood weeping from the wrist wounds. It was the only thing she could do to lessen the pain he was in, until the ambulance arrived.

Then, it had just been long waits. A long wait to find out if he would survive. A long wait to be able to go in and see him. And now, a long wait to see when he'd wake up. She had been in this hospital room at long time, waiting. Waiting to tell him how sorry she was.

Brennan pushed aside the feelings of guilt that engulfed her when she thought of what had happened.

She reached out instinctively to touch him but let her hand drop to the bed. She shouldn't. It could hurt him.

"You can touch him," said a kind voice from the door. Brennan turned to see a nurse entering the room. She went to the bed and checked Booth's vitals. "He's out like a light."

Brennan ran a hand through her hand.

"When will he wake up?" she questioned.

"Well, we're keeping him sedated. He's got a lot of injuries," Brennan felt the guilt again. After a moment the nurse left. Brennan considered what she had said and supposed it would be ok. Lowering the guardrail, she climbed into the bed next to her sleeping partner and drifted off.


	6. Seely again

_Ok, well almost everyone who reviewed (cheers ;) ) wanted anoher chapter so here goes. Not sure it will be very good as it is almost 10.30pm and i should be doing me english assesment but, low and behold, i am on this website marvleing about the addiction i have have - Bones fanfics. anyway, dont be too dissapointed if its not great. i didn't really know i was going to do this! chapter 6:_

Consciousness seeped into Seely Booth's brain, slowly but surely. No, he thought and tried to crawl back into the little hovel of his mind in which he'd been curled up for the past however long. He didn't want to wake up and face the pain he would be feeling. Then, a voice. Whispered, illegible. Just above his head. A mans. His captors? Booth couldn't tell. Footsteps. A soft tapping noise. What the hell? He thought.

Then, he realized something strange. He was lying on something soft and he was warm. Then he heard her voice.

"The doctor just said you're healing very well. You could wake up at anytime," she babbled.

Bones

It was her. It was her! But it couldn't be, he thought. Deciding it was to confusing and would drive him crazy if he didn't, Booth decided to take a peek and scope out the situation he was in. Opening his eyes proved to be a more difficult task than he would've previously thought. They felt heavy. Heavy? Was that even possible? He couldn't muster the energy to think about that. Finally, his vision cleared and he saw he was in a hospital bed. A feeling of great relief swept through him. I'm not going to die, he realized. Then he saw the owner of the voice he had heard. Dr Temperance Brennan. Bones. His partner. His friend. The women he loved. Her head was resting on one hand and the other was lying on the bed. She was glaring at her laptop, which was propped on the bed too. God, she was beautiful, he thought. The light was illuminating her face curiously. Moving slowly, as his entire body ached, Booth slid his hand across the sheets to touch hers.

"Hey, Bones," he whispered. His words were slurred.

She jumped, looked at him and then gasped in relief.

"Thank god. Thank god, you're awake," she hugged Booth tightly. He inhaled sharply from pain. "I was so worried that …I'm so sorry."

"Owwwwww," Booth said softly. He was doped up with a shit load of painkillers and yet he still hurt from her touch.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry," she pulled back, careful not to dislodge the IV drip. "I'll get you something to drink."

"Thanks," she poured some water into a glass and helped him to drink. For a moment neither of them spoke. Booth was trying to discover any part of him that wasn't screaming in pain. "So…were you worried about me?" he flashed his charm smile. It hurt. Brennan smirked.

"Usually people ask 'what happened?' or 'am I going to live?' in this situation." She stated. He closed his eyes and lent back against the pillow. He was so tired.

"Ok, ummm, what happened?" he asked, without looking at her.

"Later," she replied, with a laugh. A laugh that was filled with happiness and relief. "When you're stronger."

"Awww Bones,"

"Don't call me Bones." They laughed. She was trying not to think about how worried she had been. He was trying not to think about how scared he had been.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, opening his eyes. He had so many questions to ask but his body was working against him, making him wish he could drift off again. Or it could have been the drugs.

"I can leave if you want …" she said and started to close her laptop. She looked hurt.

"No! Please, don't," he exclaimed, "I meant, its 3 in the morning. You should be at home, sleeping."

"Well, I haven't been sleeping very well for the last … little while, and I sort of wanted to be here when you woke up," she explained, fiddling with the sheets. Booth was touched.

"Why?" he questioned.

"Because … I wanted to say sorry," she sighed. "I'm sorry that you got kidnapped because of me. And I'm sorry that I caused you so much pain. I'm sorry. I'm just really sorry. Why are you smiling?"

"You said sorry too many times," she started to cut in but he held up a hand. "It's fine. No harm, no foul." A/N _something along those lines_

"No harm?" she was aghast. "You've been unconscious for almost a week. You were tortured. You can't move with out wincing in pain…"

"Yeah, but I got a cool souvenir," he said, raising his broken arm 5 centimeters from the bed. Brennan fought back the urge to smile. Booth fought back the urge to go to sleep. He didn't want to go to sleep.

"You're tired," she declared.

"No, I'm not,"

"Yes, you are," she took his hand. Next to hers, his was extremely pale. He wondered what he must look like to her. The blanket covered most of his body but from what he could remember his torturer did, Booth knew it mustn't have been good.

"No, I'm not,"

"You're tired and you're immature," she said, reaching for the button beside the bed. A nurse appeared at the door.

"Oh, your awake. Welcome back Agent Booth," she said kindly.

"Good to be back," he replied.

"Can we have more pain meds?" asked Brennan.

"Certainly. I'll also inform your doctor your awake," the nurse left. Booth sighed and tried not to think about the past week. Or what he could recall of it. But unbidden images crawled into his mind and he could remember it vividly. God, he had been so close to giving up hope. Every time he'd awoken, he'd prayed that Brennan would come and help him. So much pain. Shaking his head slightly, then suffering the headachy repercussions of the movement, Booth tried to clear his thoughts.

"Try to not think about it," Brennan said, squeezing his hand slightly.

"I can't," he confessed. "I just … every time I close my eyes I see everything again. I don't want to go to sleep cause I'm afraid I'll wake up to be back there again."

"I'll stay here," she promised. "I'll stay with you and make sure nothing happens. You can trust me."

"Thanks, Bones," he said, but his eyes were still troubled. The nurse returned, brandishing a needle. She administered the morphine, wished him a good nap and left.

"But, tomorrow you have to promise to tell me what happened," he said, fighting the drugs.

"I promise I will," she replied.

"And – And don't go. Please," his words were slurring.

"I won't,"

"And I love you, Bones." He didn't know if she would understand what he meant. His brain was filled with mist. Closing his eyes, Booth lost his fight against the morphine and was asleep before he could hear her reply.

"I love you too,"


End file.
